Someplace To Be
by Rossi
Summary: Everyone needs someplace to belong - Anya shares hers with Tara.


Posted 22/3/02.  
  
[B:TVS] Someplace To Be (1/1) (PG) By Rossi.  
  
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, they're Joss Whedon's. Clever little Vegemite, isn't he? Set. um, no idea. When Anya first starts working in the Magic Box and Tara and Willow are first together.  
  
Rating: G - lots of good harmless fun. :)  
  
A tad late, but this one's for Lise. A very happy birthday to the Evil Little Toaster.  
  
***  
  
To say Anya enjoyed working at the Magic Box would be an understatement of the highest order.  
  
The former demon looked around the small shop with a feeling of deep satisfaction. Customers were browsing the shelves, and while that wasn't as good as actually _buying_ things, Giles' lessons concerning customer relations had stuck - finally - and she understood that the browser of today might very well become the consumer of tomorrow. As long as she didn't scare them off. Her previous incarnation as a vengeance demon had taught her the intricacies of persuasion - in order to get satisfyingly vengeful wishes from those women scorned, she'd had to carefully encourage and nudge them towards the point. So once she'd adapted her techniques somewhat, she was more successful at encouraging people to make a purchase than the rest of the Scooby gang would have given her credit for. Giles, against his worst misgivings, had decided to test that apparent talent with an most reluctant absence from the shop - a particularly rare and useful book of spells had made itself available and the former librarian could never resist a book, even one whose owner was a particularly reclusive collector who lived on the other side of town.  
  
Anya's satisfaction, however, was more than just the fact that there hadn't been any disasters.  
  
However much Xander loved her and told her so, however hard she tried to help, however much Giles reassured her that she was accepted (when he wasn't panicking about her insulting the customers or visits from her old demon pals), she knew deep down, that the Scoobies were suspicious of her, of her demonic precedents. But here, in the shop, that didn't matter - it was her place, where she belonged, and she did her job well. In the shop, she was a Useful Member of Society.  
  
There was a jingle at the door of the small bell and she met Tara's eyes as the girl came in. Almost immediately Tara's glance skittered away, roving around the room, anywhere but on Anya. From any of the other Scoobies, this would have insulted Anya, but she'd grown used to Tara's chronic shyness and accepted it as one of the girl's quirks. She accepted Tara better, perhaps than some of the others - Buffy, always the action girl, grew impatient with Tara's hesitation; while Xander was uncomfortable with the whole lesbian thing. Which confused Anya, since Xander had nothing to worry about from lesbians, guaranteed. Unless it was something to do with the whole Willow thing back in their school days. Humans tended to make things far more complicated than necessary. Willow herself treated Tara with a mixture of affection and condescension - she seemed oblivious to the power in the girl, blinded by her own, perhaps.  
  
"Hello Tara, is this a social or a business call?" Anya smiled brightly and hopefully at the young witch. "Do you wish to conduct a transaction?"  
  
"Uh, I'm not. that is." Tara took a deep breath and tried again. "I was hoping to find Willow here."  
  
"She's out on patrol," Anya told her, her salesperson's smile slipping. "Buffy found a vampire nest yesterday and went to clean it up - Willow and Xander went to watch her back, although Buffy will have to do something heroic to get them out of trouble, I suspect. Didn't she tell you?"  
  
"Uh, no." Tara ducked her head, allowing her long blond hair to fall across her face. Anya bit her lip - obviously she'd put her foot in it yet again.  
  
"Well, I'm sure she meant to. Perhaps she forgot. She's so busy, there's plenty of important things occupying her mind," she said in what she hoped was a comforting way. For some reason it didn't work that well - Tara's mouth drooped a bit more. "Uh, how about them Mets?"  
  
"What?" Tara frowned in confusion.  
  
"I was watching television, and when people want to change the subject, they say something about sports. Or the weather. And I'm sure I've heard that question used before, so I thought it would work." She looked hopefully at Tara. "Did it?" The corners of Tara's mouth turned up, and twitched a little.  
  
"Maybe," she said, putting down her bag and looking around the shop. "Do you mind if I wait here? For Willow? We were supposed to go to a movie later."  
  
"Why not? Just don't get in the way of the real customers."  
  
Tara had known Anya long enough to not take offence at the remark. "You look kinda busy tonight - can I help?" Anya looked at her doubtfully.  
  
"Weeeell, you _could_ start putting the charms in that box on the shelves. And you can wrap people's purchases. But no taking the money. That's _my_ job." Tara smiled, and the expression lightened her whole face.  
  
"No money, I promise. Witch's honour." She held up her hand, palm out.  
  
They worked in silence for a while, as the shop gradually emptied. Tara proved most adept with wrapping paper and Sellotape, managing to wrap even the awkwardly-shaped Tahitian idol bought by a rather sweaty little man in thick glasses. He got sweatier as Anya smiled at him and thanked him for his patronage, and almost had a seizure when she told him brightly (and rather loudly) about how it was a very effective treatment for impotence used by centuries of Tahitian kings, and how you didn't need to be a king, or Tahitian, to use it, and how she was sure his little problem would be solved in no time.  
  
"Ah, Anya, you do realise you embarrassed that man half to death?" Tara ventured as the man, blushing purple, scuttled out of the shop, his parcel shoved under his coat.  
  
"Of course." Anya turned a wicked smile on Tara. "He's been lurking around here for weeks, giving me all sorts of creepy looks and getting all hot and bothered over some of the books. And since Giles says the customer is always right, I couldn't just tell him he was a very unattractive man and I wouldn't be interested if our copulating would save the world from destruction. So I decided on a rather more. subtle approach."  
  
"Interesting use of 'subtle', but I get what you mean." Tara gave Anya a sidelong look. Sometimes she suspected Anya wasn't as clueless about human customs as she seemed - she certainly knew how to push that man's buttons, and she'd seen how well the former demon interacted with the customers, despite her lapses and somewhat-stilted forms of speech. But to say so would be to make Anya think she was suspected of something, so she settled for: "You really like working here, don't you?"  
  
"Who wouldn't? I'm earning a wage, and being a Useful Member of Society. Besides, I get to count the money." To punctuate the point, Anya pulled a wad of twenties out of the register, in preparation for closing - the last few browsers were drifting towards the door.  
  
"It must be nice," Tara said, a wistful note entering her voice.  
  
"Counting the money? Yes, very nice. But you _did_ promise you wouldn't."  
  
"I meant being useful." Tara sighed, a sad little noise.  
  
"You're useful. You help Willow with the witching," Anya pointed out, not pausing in her labours.  
  
"Yes, but sometimes I think Willow doesn't really _need_ my help. Like I'm only allowed to know about the Slayer because I'm her. y'know." Tara's blush - never far away - made a comeback.  
  
"Lover?" suggested Anya, matter-of-factly.  
  
"Yes. S-see, I know I-I-I'm probably being silly but."  
  
".But you feel like you're intruding?" Anya suggested as Tara trailed off into stammering confusion. Words, Anya decided, weren't something Tara was entirely comfortable with.  
  
"Yes," the would-be witch said gratefully. "I thought it was just me."  
  
"Oh no, they do it to me too. The in-jokes and 'remember when we' stories and references to things we can't possibly know about since we weren't there but they assume we do know about." Anya riffled through the banknotes in her hand, letting the soothing smell of cash calm her. "I'm sure they don't do it on purpose."  
  
Tara nodded, her expression turning sad again. "I suppose not. But the S- scoobies, and the S-slaying. they're an important part of Willow's life, and I wouldn't want to take her away from it. I just wish I could do more. Help her. Help Buffy."  
  
Anya nodded. "That's why I'm glad I have the shop. Well, that Giles has the shop. And that he lets me work here. I have some place to be."  
  
"Yes, you're lucky."  
  
The silence grew between the two after that, as they completed the mundane tasks associated with closing - putting items away that had been moved, completing any orders to be picked up the next morning, locking the door, tallying the takings and balancing the books - although that was Anya's job. When they had finished they sat together at the round table used for Scooby meetings, the friendly shadows gathering around them and the silence stretching, lengthening, becoming something deeper.  
  
"This is nice," Anya said at last, but not for the sake of saying something, anything to fill the gap. It just seemed to sum things up.  
  
"Yes, it is."  
  
Another pause. "You have to promise me you won't touch the money," said Anya suddenly. Tara looked at her, bewildered.  
  
"S-sorry?"  
  
"If you help me here, you have to promise not to touch the money. The money's my job. But you can help with the customers and the stock and you're good at wrapping so I'll let you do that." Anya gave Tara an appraising look. "But no money."  
  
"Witch's honour, no money," Tara said solemnly, and then smiled. The smile, seldom seen, lit up her whole face, eased the perpetual air of worry she wore like a cloak. "Thank you." She reached over and hugged the startled Anya, who stiffened.  
  
"Ah, is this a 'initiating sexual contact' hug or a 'sign of friendly affection and gratitude' hug? Because, you know, Xander. Not that I'm flattered mind you."  
  
"Oh no!" Tara released her, blushing scarlet. "That was a. what you said. Friendly affection."  
  
Anya shrugged. "That's all right then. Because, you know. Xander..."  
  
Tara smiled. "I know." Anya raised her eyebrow expectantly.  
  
"Were you finished?"  
  
"Finished what?" Talking with Anya was often like the "Who's on first?" sketch, Tara had found.  
  
"The poignant moment. The hug. Are we done?"  
  
"I s-suppose so."  
  
"That's a pity." Anya grinned suddenly. "I was rather enjoying it."  
  
The End. 


End file.
